Everything has gone to shit!
by Almosegosum
Summary: Everything had gone to shit. Looking over to Ron, whimpering next to him, Harry thought that might have been more literal that first thought. Rater T, because if you are a teen, and you can't handle a bit of language, then you need help. It's not that bad.


Everything has gone to shit!

By Almosegosum

Rater T, because if you are a teen, and you can't handle a bit of language, then you need help. It's not that bad.

Don't own!

Everything had gone to shit.

Looking over to Ron, whimpering next to him, Harry thought that might have been more literal that first thought.

Draco was hurriedly brewing next to him, creating calming draughts faster than should be logically possible. The temperature dropped another few degrees, and the lights flickered, before going out.

With a sigh Harry flicked his wand, producing an independent lumos, which lit the most of the room. Looking over to the redhead, he sighed again, thinking back on the day.

- That morning -

He had apperated into his office, one of the perks of being the hero of the wizarding world – and set to work, revising the sting operation they were going to be setting up that evening.

Bored out of his mind, the Man-With-A-Work-Related-Headache walked out of his spacious office, is search of some relief. He had hardly walked into the Advanced - Research -Into -Brew -And -Other -Non -Wand -Related-Healing –Methods -Department when Malfoy popped his head out of his office.

The next moment a tray was pushed into his face, with a mushroom that looked all kinds of wrong perched on a sterilized silver plate.

Having learned not to question, he popped the thing into his mouth. It tasted like troll-snot (he shuddered at the memory of absentmindedly chewing his wand the day after having pushed it up the troll's nose. Apparently wiping it on ones robes was not good enough).

After puking into an awaiting basket, he glared at the blond. He grinned in a rather lecherous manner.

"If only you took everything given to you so willingly into your mouth." Draco wiggled his eyebrows, and Harry flushed like Neville used to when Luna would explain their newly found exotic sexual positions during a luncheon.

"Fuck off! You ass! I was considering letting you return to Grimmlaud-Place, but you can stay at your mothers for another few days!" he huffed, and made to leave the stupid git alone in his laboratory, when he felt a strange tingling in his mouth.

He worriedly turned to the blond, wanting to know what the hell was going on, when he was ambushed by the blond. It took a moment to realize that he blond had used a cleansing charm on his mouth, so as to be able to snog the daylights out of him.

After half an hour of desperately ignored moans –ignored by those whom passed the drawn blinds and locked door of Dr. D L Malfoy, a Harry walked out with a slight limp and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Apparently the South-African Double -Red -head mushroom, was both a quick way to relieve headaches, seeming to instantly absorb any of the hormones and other toxins that was causing the pain, and then expelling itself immediately.

It did however leave behind a timeframe where almost every sexual nerve was highly sensitive, as well as behavior described as Heated-Cat Syndrome.

It was only when Harry fell into his chair, when after flinching very noticeably, did he start cursing the blond.

The rest of the day was calm-ish, and having memorized everything in the plan, he popped home for a quick shower, and then returned around four, so they could start getting together everything for tonight.

Then everything went to shit.

The wards had tried to block him when he tried to enter, and being pissed at Malfoy still, he decided to fuck the wards, and broke through.

He fell on his ass, missing his chair completely. Looking around, he saw most of the department crowded in his office, most of whom were heavily warding the doors.

Ignoring this, he looked for his chair.

He found that, along with his desk, they had been moved to the wall furthest from the door. A certain blond was currently setting up a temporary lab, that was more intricate that most formal labs.

The blond talked at him, not bothering to look around.

"Get your ass off the floor Harry, I can't imagine that it would be very comfortable – especially for you…" the blush returned.

As most of his regiment snickered, he walked up to the blond, and demanded an explanation. The blond gave a short, but well worded reply – speaking of his formal Auror training. It went as follows…

'The Fucker that thinks himself minister, thought it strange that most of the lower levels were closed off. He said, and I quote, 'Why one earth have they not been opened. It has been five years since Voldemort's Defeat. I am going down there.' That was the last we heard of him. The fucker went to the 'cold-room' you know, the one that not even Kingsley wanted to go near, and started tearing down the wards. We all heard an almighty bitch scream, and then silence. Then everything became cold.

The emergency wards went up, and no-one can leave. Not even Granger can figure anything out. Apparently they were designed by Dumbledore – took him an entire weekend- so yea, we are stuck. It's either the front door, or nothing. The floors are separated by the wards, as you know. Everything below five is dead, and four is being overrun. Three is secured, but we decided to stay here on four and plan something.

The main problem is that the front won't open, lest we secure past five, in fear of letting the things out on the populace.

Oh yea, the things. They seem to be a mix of vampire and… Uhh- dementor. We can be thankful as fuck that Voldemort never thought to unleash them. They are floating about the place, icing everything.

They are repelled by patronie, but only very strong ones. And since most of the governmental staff are… well… uh, not strong, all retaliation efforts have been, ineffective."

Harry could barely believe what was coming out of Draco's mouth. To say that he was worried was a bit of an understatement.

After going out of the room a few times, and successfully fighting back a few waves of the things, he had nearly shit himself in fear almost three times, and once… not almost.

They had kept the things below four, for almost ten hours, with no-one being able to do or think of anything. Then Malfoy had an idea. He deduced that they did not need to get out, they just needed to get word out.

He scurried towords the floo, knowing that the lines were blocked, but hoping that a call might have been possible. After a few hours of tampering, they broke through the safety guards. The problem was they could only contact the last person contacted on the floo network.

That Being Draco's South-African contact for dastardly mushrooms. Most of the room blushed as the last message was replayed, during the tampering proses. Hearing how their head researcher described to some very apathetic individual how he bent their head Auror over a desk… was not something they wanted to listen to.

The one on the other side barely said 'hn' throughout the entire retelling. Asking a few questions as to temperament of the affected, as well as muscle control, and any unusual spazming. Then when Draco wanted to continue the other said his tea was done, and he did not care anymore. He disconnected.

During the entire conversation, it became clear that he was in the middle of a conference, having chased away two messengers whom came to report level one emergencies in the building, chastising them for interrupting him.

Apparently level one was about as severe as a death-eater attack on the ministry. And in one conversation there was two. Many people raised their eyebrows at the people their dear reformed death-eater hung out with.

The people in the office held their thumbs as the floo finally connected to the line. They waited for a response.

"Someone had better be dead due to my mushrooms…" the entire sentence was uttered in one long sigh.

"Uhh, you could say that." Draco gave a small chuckle, before focusing himself.

"About forty died because the only person alive to talk some sense into our now dead minister, was home washing cum out of his ass…" he was cuffed over the head, before he continued.

"We kinda need your help." He became very somber. Reigning in his humor, in favor of a more serious tone. It seemed that uttering the fact that so many dies, made the situation more real.

After a few moments, there was a sigh on the other side.

- Time skip –

Harry sat in his home, Draco laying with his head in his lap, reading. He still was not sure what he had seen happen just a few hours ago.

They waited for about a few minutes after the floo disconnected. They man had not said anything after the sigh – which sounded very much like someone asked him to do the most mundane thing in the universe, when someone else was clearly able to do it in-stead.

Just when everyone wanted to panic, they heard a ding. It was the elevator down the hall. They heard a horrible screeching sound, the sound they had come to associate with the creatures. A bunch of them flew past the office, making shadows dance across the drawn blinds.

Then they heard a new screeching sound. It was clear that it was coming from the same creatures, but when it had first sounded menacing, it now sounded terrified. This continued for another few seconds, before everything became quiet again.

Then there was another ding.

When harry finally poked his head out of the door, he was met with what looked like traditional tribal paintings that was found in caves. But instead of the oranges, and reds if the sand and clay – these were black, like ink. It was eerie as fuck to see them slowly dripping down the walls.

Especially as they seemed to depict the creatures from before, clearly fleeing from the now empty elevator.

The thing above the elevator showed that it just returned from the floor below. After a similar session of panicked screeching, the arrow sunk another floor lower. This repeated till it reached the lowest floor. The screeching only sounded like someone who was tracking their nails across a blackboard a few rooms away.

Then the arrow started to ascend.

10

9

8

7

6

5…

When it reached four, harry was clinging to Draco, whom was smirking slightly.

Then the doors opened and out stepped a young man, no older than seventeen. He was slightly fat, with big glasses on his nose. His dark brown hair was long at the top, and was gelled in a perfect wave. He wore a pitch black suit, save a white shirt. In his undercoat there was a silver chain, which led to a pocket watch. He had a slight mustache that was perfectly trimmed.

His eyes were the most interesting, as the seemed almost coal black, but did not shimmer. They were matt, and as lifeless as the entirety of his posture suggested.

He gave a small not to Draco, before apparently deciding that taking the elevator was too much of a hassle and apperated away, without a sound.

They went home, when a cleanup crew came in.

As Harry was carding through Draco's hair, he wondered.

"Where the fuck did you find that person?" he sounded awed and exasperated.

"Harry dear, in the world of cutting edge research, one tends to meet the most interesting people. And if you are good enough, and make some friends – it can only work in ones favor. I met him at a symposium in South-Africa. I told him I'd help him with his mushrooms, and he would help me when – and I am using his words, everything inevitably goes to shit."

Harry stared at Draco for a few minutes…

"Why did you wait five hours to call him then?" he got up and walked to the door.

"Because I did not want to sleep on the couch." Said Draco, before grabbing a pillow, and making himself comfortable on the uncomfortable thing.

Harry glared at him once more, before leaving for the bedroom.

Review please! Please please please! Just like please. Point out flaws! Help me become better!


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